“So who is Oshún?”

“The goddess of beauty and sensuality. We call upon her magic.”

“For what?”

“To make us better lovers, of course.”

“How come Desi Arnaz didn’t write a song about her?”

“I don’t know, Felix. If Desi was alive you could ask him.”

Dozens of sailboats and yachts were moored to the pier and their lights twinkled festively over the water. Carmen walked down the ramp to a thirty-foot Bayliner cruiser and hailed someone on board.

I removed my sunglasses.

A man appeared from the cabin. A red aura surrounded him. Human.

Carmen stepped off the dock and into the cockpit of the boat. She and the man clasped hands, and he kissed her on the cheek. Her orange aura glistened with affection. Vampires only show that kind of attraction to “chalices,” humans who willingly offer themselves and their blood to their vampire masters.

Carmen waved me aboard and I joined her in the cockpit. She introduced me to Thorne, a ropy-muscled man in his mid-twenties. The word “strapping” came to mind; someone who could satisfy her sexual appetite. Was he her research partner for The Undead Kama Sutra? A bandanna covered his neck, advertising his status as a chalice to those in the undead family. He didn’t say much and smiled politely.

Carmen carried the botánica bag and stooped to enter the boat’s cabin. She came out empty-handed and ordered that we shove off.

Moving athletically on his sturdy, hairy legs, Thorne cast loose from the moorings. Her hungry gaze followed him.

Thorne took the helm. He flipped switches across the instrument panel. The navigation lights flicked on. The engine coughed to life. Above the cabin, the radar antenna on the mast began to spin. He adjusted the volume of the radio so the squawks of harbor traffic faded into the background. The Bayliner cruised slowly away from the dock.

A woman’s shriek-a cross between a drunken sorority girl and a hyena on fire-echoed from the pier. An orange glow streaked toward us. Jolie.

She bounded from the edge of the pier. Our boat was a good hundred feet away. Jolie sailed through the air and pumped her arms to keep the momentum. She used vampire levitation to land softly beside Carmen and me.

Jolie raised both her arms in a triumphant salute. “Ta-da.”

“Yeah, great,” Carmen chided. “Where’s your motorcycle?”

Jolie’s aura dimmed. “Shit. I knew I forgot something.”

I introduced myself, then asked, “How was the fight?”

“Totally awesome. One of those assholes got the drop on me and nailed me good.” She pointed to the shiner on her right eye. “I’ll bet it’s a beaut.”

“Looks…wonderful,” I said. “Hurt?”

“Stupid question.” Jolie touched the swollen tissue around her eye. “’Course it hurts. Too bad it’ll heal by the time we get home.”

“Which is where?” I turned to Carmen.

She loosened her braid. She closed her eyes in a blissful trance as she raked her fingers to untangle the tresses. Leaning against the railing of the gunwale, Carmen silhouetted herself against the lights of Key West. Her hair shimmered like a lacy halo. “Houghton Island. It’s in the Snipe Keys northeast of here.”

Once in open water, Thorne opened the throttle and the Bayliner rocked on its wake. Jolie yanked off her boots and socks and scrambled barefoot to the prow, where she sat on the foredeck and sang-more or less-tunes from the eighties. Thorne played with the GPS on the instrument panel and adjusted our course. In the far darkness, red, green, and white lights marked the other boats floating by.

I took a seat on the fantail. “Aren’t the Snipe Keys government islands?” I asked.

Carmen’s aura sparkled with assurance. “That’s what makes our resort so exclusive.”

“A resort? How did you manage that?”

Carmen gave a dimpled smile. “We have chalices in high places.”

“We?”

“There’s a bunch of investors, a few select vampires and chalices. It was my idea…and Antoine’s. You’ll meet him.”

“A few select vampires and chalices? High rollers, I’ll bet. Fun and games on a private island. Must be paradise.”

Carmen’s aura prickled with worry. “It was. That’s why I’m glad you came here.”

“Sounds like someone’s found a turd floating in the punch bowl, and I’m supposed to fish it out.” Trouble followed me everywhere.

“Lovely visual, Felix. Yeah, I could use your help.”

“Doesn’t sound like research for The Undead Kama Sutra.”

“It’s not.” Carmen paused for a beat and then explained in a monotone: “A chalice has been missing for two days.”

A missing chalice? I already had plenty to keep me busy, thanks to Gilbert Odin and the Araneum. But Carmen, as an experienced vampire, wouldn’t have asked for help unless she needed it.

“You got a name?”

“Marissa Albert. She arrived at the Key West airport and disappeared. Too bad you didn’t have a chance to meet her, you might have had a lot in common.”

“How so?”

“She’s a private investigator.”

“Was Marissa here on a case?”

Carmen looked flustered. “She didn’t mention it. She called last week and asked for a reservation to the resort. It was kinda sudden, but not too unusual.”

“And you know her from where?”

“We met when I was traveling through Minneapolis.” Carmen smiled at the memory. “She’s a wonderful chalice. It’ll be a shame if anything happened to her.”

“Why would you suspect that? Maybe she ran into a friend and changed plans.”

Carmen lost the smile. “She wasn’t the type to not let me know. I wouldn’t describe Marissa as flighty.”

A missing chalice and an alien threat? Was there a connection? I wanted to share what the Araneum had offered but they had ordered that I keep the information secret.

A series of black humps appeared on the horizon. Thorne pointed the Bayliner toward the largest one.

“Houghton Island,” he said.

As we approached, the island and its crown of trees looked like spiked teeth jutting from the water. The word “paradise” hardly came to mind-it looked like my ass was about to get bitten.

Thorne slowed the Bayliner as we neared the island. A cluster of lights sparkled within the embrace of a lush bay. As we approached, the cluster became a row of burning torches arranged parallel to the shore, north to south. Farther up the beach, strings of electric bulbs in various colors lit the cabins of a small village. The glow of the torches and electric lights reflected off the beach sand and a small pier.

Reggae music beat the night air from a simple pavilion on the far side of the cabins. Under the thatched roof of the pavilion, vampires and humans danced together, their orange and red auras mixing like swirls of candy.

Carmen pulled off her cowboy boots and socks. Since we’d be walking on sand, I went barefoot as well.

Thorne docked the Bayliner against the pier. Carmen went below into the cabin and brought out the botánica package, which she handed to Thorne with instructions for him to bring it along. She and Jolie leaped from the boat and lashed the bowline to a wharf piling. I hopped onto the pier and started after them up the beach.

A tall black man, stout as a tree trunk, wearing a tank top and baggy shorts, came from the cabins to meet us. His orange aura announced he was a vampire. And one that liked to eat, judging from his belly. A crop of nappy hair ringed his bald scalp, and a goatee and mustache circled his mouth. The reflection of the beach torches danced on his shiny forehead. He smelled like he’d been grilling fish.

Carmen introduced me as a longtime friend from Colorado.

The vampire’s name was Antoine, her business partner. Antoine gave a broad and welcoming smile. He hooked one arm around my shoulders and squeezed hard enough to make me gasp, “Pleasure’s mine.”